Begin Again
by ObsidianDraconis
Summary: How can the mere scent of someone create an entire future for one who once thought he no longer had one? Sometimes you just have to begin again. Written for a Trope Topic from the Dramione Fanfiction Writers Group. EWE Dramione


This is for a trope on a Dramione group I'm a part of. Hope you all enjoy it! The passage is from the books and I do not own it or these characters. They belong to JK Rowling.

* * *

 ** _"'It's Amortentia! It's the most powerful love potion in the world!"_**

 ** _"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"_**

 ** _"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-"_**

 ** _But she turned slightly pink and did not complete the sentence._**

* * *

As usual, Hermione Granger had been an insufferable know-it-all that day, seven years ago. It was a habit Draco had gotten used to over time. That wasn't what had grabbed his attention, however. That had been what she'd said. How the potion before them smelled differently for everyone, according to what attracted them most.

Broom polish, herbs, and lemons—that was what he had smelled. The first two were obvious to him. He loved the spicy, earthy scent of herbs and the way flying allowed him to soar high above the world and leave all his cares behind, but he hated lemon. Hated it in his tea, on his fish, or anywhere else in general so he hadn't been able to figure out why in the bloody hell he had smelled them.

Flash forward to two years later. He had been one of a handful of his classmates to return to Hogwarts to complete their N.E.W.T.S., Granger also among them. She had been welcomed back like a hero.

While her popularity grew, everyone wanting to say they knew _the_ Hermione Granger, his days of popularity had ended. As a former Death Eater and the only Slytherin from their class to return that year, he had been loathed. It hadn't helped that he had escaped Azkaban only because he had been underage and the Dark Mark had been forced upon him. He had been shunned, blamed, attacked even.

He had been utterly alone.

It didn't take but a month before he was ready to give up. Having to seek out Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing, after getting hit by a particularly nasty jinx performed by the remaining Creevy brother, had been one blow to his pride too many. It had taken him a week to fully recover. He was planning on leaving when she had sat beside him in the Great Hall one morning, ignoring the gasps, the whispers. "You know, Harry and Ron always thought you were a coward, but to be honest, I thought you had more courage than anyone knew. It seems I'm to be disappointed."

She'd walked away, not once looking back. It had galled him, made him furious, but something else had grabbed his attention. The breeze created in her wake had wafted a scent back to him. The scent of lemons. He'd never noticed it before because he had never paid attention. Why should he have? He'd been taught that people like her were beneath him, so he would never have paid any attention to her bloody scent. It was that moment that he'd realized he had been attracted to her even as far back as Sixth Year. From that moment on, it had been as if she'd forced a vial of Amortentia down his throat.

He had become obsessed with trying to prove to her that he wasn't a coward, so he didn't leave, not that day or the next or the one after that. No matter what had come his way, he'd never wavered. Because of her.

He owed a lot of things to her. He owed her for the fact that he'd graduated with full Marks, that he'd gotten a decent job in the Ministry, that the stigma behind his name had slowly lessened and he'd made his own mark upon the world, that the name Draco Malfoy was now respected. All because she'd issued a single challenge in that one encounter.

All because that one encounter had led to another and another until one day they were holding hands through the halls, snogging in darkened corners, and professing their love for one another in the Room of Requirement. It had come fast and hard, that love. Grown stronger as the years went by. Now, well now he wanted to take it another step forward. This was it. It was finally time. He was nervous, so very, very nervous.

Her gasp as she took in the vases full of roses that littered their flat made his heart jump. The tears in her eyes as she turned to find him on one knee made his palms sweat and his breaths come in quick pants. This was it, his entire future relied on this moment.

"Hermione Jean Granger, there was a day in the not so distant past that I would never have thought that a moment like this would come. We were two entirely different people with entirely different beliefs. Over these last years, I've lived this life that seems like a dream. Some days it's hard to believe that you chose me. Yet each new day shows me one more thing about you to love. I want to wake up next to you every day for the remainder of our lives. I want to have children with you, I want to build a home and a life with you. So marry me. Make me the happiest man alive, and marry me."

Hermione Granger slid to the floor, leaned in, and kissed the man she'd come to love more than she could have ever thought possible. "Yes," she whispered, right before their lips met.


End file.
